


Starstruck

by tveckling



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Zombies, Coffee Shops, Domestic Fluff, First Dates, Fluff, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Nothing but sweet fluffiness, Romantic Fluff, art at the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-12 12:07:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20564054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tveckling/pseuds/tveckling
Summary: There's no way to know which feeling is more prominent—joy or dismay—as Leon turns his head, but his lips still quirk when he sees Chris waving wildly. It's become something of an involuntary reaction whenever he sees the other man, one that Leon hadn't even noticed until Elliot pointed it out one day. But the embarrassment went away quickly when he realized Chris always smiled just as happily when they saw each other, and even went out of his way to go to Leon. Maybe that's why he hadn't actually been surprised when Chris finally asked him on an actual date.And seeing him now, seeing the wide grin splitting his face as he jogs over to where Leon's standing, Leon finds his anxiety about accepting melting away."Hey," he says when Chris is close enough."Hey." If smiles could generate power Leon would bet good money that Chris' could rival the sun in pure energy production.





	Starstruck

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rnachine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rnachine/gifts).

> Sometimes you get hit by the fluffy, and then you just have to do whatever it demands of you. In this case that was making a gift for my darling kao, a companion fic to their tooth-rottingly sweet art. Because I love you.
> 
> The art, btw, was made for the Chreon Summer Solstice Exchange on tumblr for user nreferin~

Staring into the empty space in front of him Leon has to fight the voice screaming at him to just _ get moving and go away _ . There's still time, no one would ever know. He arrived almost one hour before the planned time, full of jitters and regret over his early arrival, because _ who even shows up that early? _ He's acting like a teenager out on his first date, fidgeting in place, unable to stand still, playing with the hem of his jacket, and glancing at his clock every five seconds, and he wants to slam his face into the wall. If only his friends from high school could see him now—they'd never let him live it down.

There's been plenty of other people who've seen him, though, standing right outside the cafe door in the cold. Not a few have given him strange looks as they walked past him, and he's sure he heard those two teenage girls giggle to themselves before the door closed and he was left to his own thoughts. Not for the first time he wishes he could just shut them off, because he's actually starting to prefer laughing teenagers to his own mind.

Why is he even there? Why did he get there so early? Why in God's name did he think it was a good idea to stay outside instead of going inside? And why hasn't he still gone in, to warm himself up if for no other reason?

He takes a deep breath and drums his fingers against his thigh. He does know why. If he had gone inside, if he'd bought something to drink and sat down, it would have been much harder to run away if he needed to. And every cell in his body is screaming at him to do just that. What did he think when he accepted the invitation? It's simple, what he has to do. He should go away, pretend he was never there, come up with some excuse to use the next day.

But his feet won't move more than a couple steps before he's going right back to his earlier spot.

Annoyance fills him, and he has to fight not to scream. He shouldn't be there. He shouldn't have agreed to the date in the first place. He should go. He should leave, right now. All he has to do is walk away—no one will know.

"Ah. Hey, Leon!"

There's no way to know which feeling is more prominent—joy or dismay—as Leon turns his head, but his lips still quirk when he sees Chris waving wildly. It's become something of an involuntary reaction whenever he sees the other man, one that Leon hadn't even noticed until Elliot pointed it out one day. But the embarrassment went away quickly when he realized Chris always smiled just as happily when they saw each other, and even went out of his way to go to Leon. Maybe that's why he hadn't actually been surprised when Chris finally asked him on an actual date.

And seeing him now, seeing the wide grin splitting his face as he jogs over to where Leon's standing, Leon finds his anxiety about accepting melting away.

"Hey," he says when Chris is close enough.

"Hey." If smiles could generate power Leon would bet good money that Chris' could rival the sun in pure energy production. "Good to see you. Hope you haven't been waiting long? I tried not to be late-"

"You're not! Don't worry, you're not late. I'm early, that's all." Praying that his smile isn't as forced as it feels Leon reaches out and pats Chris' arm. "You're just on time."

It seems like there's too much amusement in Chris' laughter, and Leon feels his smile drop down into his stomach like a stone. But as he pulls back his hand, eyes flickering to the side, Chris snatches it. "Hey, no, I'm sorry, I wasn't laughing at you, I was just so relieved… God, your hand is _ freezing _. How long have you been out here?"

Feeling his cheeks flush—_ God damn it _, he should have left when he had the chance—Leon tries to pull at his hand again, but Chris won't let go. "It's nothing," he mutters, refusing to look up. "I just forgot gloves."

"But why didn't you go inside?" Chris makes a frustrated noise and steps past Leon, pulling at his hand. "Come on. We need to get you inside and warmed up."

There's a part still telling him to pull back his hand, to go away, to get out of there, but Leon finds himself following Chris into the cafe. The hand holding his is so warm, rough fingers holding onto him tightly. He can't look away from it.

"Sit down here, this seat's closest to the radiator. Do you need gloves? I have a pair- I mean, if it would help, but probably not since we're already inside and all. Damnit, don't they have blankets or anything here?"

Leon feels a flash of amusement—pushing away the impulse to run away—as he watches Chris hover. The inside of the building is much warmer than he thought, and he plays with the idea of removing his jacket. But Chris would probably freak out even more if he did, what with how he's trying to keep Leon warm. "It's alright. I'm already much warmer."

The narrowed-eyed stare he receives brings out a smile, one that doesn't feel forced at all. How strange that such a stern look for a grown man can look so _ incredibly adorable _.

"I swear. They have the radiator on top level—it's almost like it's burning my leg. I don't need gloves or a blanket, I promise."

"If you say so…" The tone very clearly shows Chris' disbelief, as does the pout show his displeasure. _ Adorable. _ "Fine, then. Stay here, and don't move. I'll be right back."

Leon nods and watches as his friend- as his _ date _ steps away towards the counter, then he leans forward over the table and buries his face in his arms as the doubt and regret hits him full force. Date. Him, out on a date with _ Chris Redfield _, ace member of the S.T.A.R.S. team. The one so many of the female officers, and civilians, whispered about way too often. So young, and already so incredibly accomplished. Not to mention how damn good he looks. The disciplinary issues that arise every so often just add to his charm.

And that Chris Redfield asked _ him _ out on a date, ordinary rookie police officer Leon Kennedy. Sure, Leon knows he looks good and has a nice smile, and he's often called charming. He didn't have a problem getting a girlfriend even in high school. But he's nothing compared to so many others who would love Chris' attention. Even if he's only into guys there are several others in the department who would suit him much better.

Why in the world did Chris choose _ him _?

"Hey, sleepy head. You okay there?"

With a start Leon straightens and stares up at Chris, but the other man just looks amused. No matter how Leon feels caught red-handed humans can't read each others' minds, he reminds himself with a sigh. There's no way for Chris to know what pitiful thoughts he was getting wrapped up in.

"I'm fine."

"Good, good. Sure hope you don't get a cold now, or anything. How long _ did _ you stand out there?"

There's something in Chris' hand that he puts down in front of Leon, and Leon focuses on that. "Is this for me?"

The smirk on Chris' face tells Leon that he noticed the changing of subject, but thankfully he doesn't comment on it. Instead he sits down on the other side of the small table and smiles. For some reason he's avoiding Leon's eyes. "Yeah, thought you might need some heating up—from the inside, you know? But you don't have to drink it if you don't want to, of course, I don't- you don't have to. If you don't want to… yeah."

Warmth floods Leon's chest and face, and he quickly ducks his head as he takes the cup. It really is warm, and maybe his fingers were more chilled than he'd admitted. He wraps both hands around the cup, as much as possible, and leans over it, taking a deep breath, feeling tension leave his body. Yes, this is what he needs, and he knows this shop has the good stuff. He knows it just by the smell of it, even if he hadn't already been there before, and the moment he takes a careful sip he feels yet another smile force itself onto his face.

Strong bitterness fills his mouth, the additional sweetness making it more than a pleasant taste. And the warmth, not to forget, gives him goosebumps. After taking another small sip—it is _ really _ warm, and he doesn't want to burn his tongue—it seems only natural to lean back in his seat with a happy sigh. "Perfect. How'd you know?"

"Two sugars, two creams, strong enough to wake the dead." Chris smiles, an oddly intent look in his eyes that makes Leon acutely aware of himself. "I wanted to know as much about you as possible, including how you like your coffee. I'm glad I was right."

The coffee cup is a very popular and well-used invention, able to both keep in and protect from the coffee's heat. It's also perfect to use as a cover to hide your face behind. Leon is deeply grateful for it, and for how he was already holding the cup in both his hands. Hopefully Chris won't be able to see exactly how hard he's blushing from Chris so openly talking about his interest. 

"You asked Scott, didn't you?" he manages to say after clearing his throat, and watches over the cup's lid as Chris snorts.

"Right in one. He was way too happy to tell me everything he knows about you and your habits."

"I'm gonna pour salt in his coffee tomorrow," Leon says and shakes his head, but behind the cup he's smiling.

"Knowing him he probably likes it better that way."

"That _ would _ be just my luck, wouldn't it?"

The embarrassment washes away as Chris throws his head back with a burst of laughter. Leon puts down his cup and leans forward, feeling no need to cover his smile anymore.

"So how's that situation with your sister going?"

The smile disappears as Chris groans and rubs his face. "I swear to God… I told her to go to the police with the evidence she had—this guy's been harassing girls for ages, and Claire's got more than enough on him. And you know what she goes and does? Fucking corners him and decks him and says that if he harasses someone again she'll come back to finish the job. Can you believe it? She told me over the phone yesterday, and then just _ hung up on me _."

Leon just barely manages to hold back his laughter, though judging by the sour look thrown his way he might not have succeeded fully. "Let me guess. She hung up on you because you were yelling at her?"

"She was being rash and brainless!"

"You're not denying it." Leon only chuckles and raises his cup again, wiggling his eyebrows at Chris' dark look. 

"And how about you, huh? Have you gotten rid of any of those boxes in your apartment yet? Have you even emptied any of them? Or are you just spending all your time at the station, forgetting you even have an apartment?"

"He-hey now, we're not talking about me!"

"But I like talking about you."

The simple sentence shuts Leon's mouth more effectively than any sharp command from the Lieutenant, and Leon quickly drinks his coffee, trying to ignore the easy smirk on Chris' face—the very attractive smirk on the equally attractive face.

Needless to say, it's not working well.

"I think I'm gonna need something stronger," Leon mutters as he puts down the now-empty cup. His intention was genuinely not for his words to be heard, so Chris' laughter makes him flinch before he realizes the cause behind it. Then he has to fight not to bury his face in his hands.

"I think it's too early for alcohol, but I'll be happy to take you to my favorite place once evening comes." And that's a flirtatious smile, Leon can _ feel it _, because it's making his heart beat like crazy. "But until then I can always get you another one of those cups, if you'd like."

"Make it extra sweet," Leon says after a beat. "Thank you."

"Anything you want."

There is no version of reality where Chris' hand stroking Leon's as he walks past the table is an accident. There just isn't. Leon's skin burns where his fingers touched, and he bites his lip as he rubs the area. He shouldn't have let Chris go away, shouldn't have asked him for more coffee. He wants him to stay, to sit down and talk and laugh and tease and flirt.

But at least they have more time together. The promise of going out, to Chris' 'favorite place', is making Leon himself feel all tingly. It's too distracting, making him unaware of the smile on his face.

He hopes Chris comes back soon.


End file.
